


From the Cradle to the Grave

by wowamazing



Category: Original Work
Genre: Death, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, M/M, Male Homosexuality, NSFW, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Universe, Other, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowamazing/pseuds/wowamazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young mechanics and robotic engineers, Grant and Fletcher don't have much in common except for their passions. Everything else between them only leads to fighting and hospital visits. However, when the situation involves the undead, things very readily change. Their opinions on each other change, they learn from their experiences, and they learn to trust each other as they survive in a world where everyone else is already dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Cradle to the Grave

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a story about my two favorite characters (and pairing) who happen to be surviving in the zombie apocolypse. There WILL BE sex and there WILL BE violence in tow though I can't promise you what chapter or anything so 
> 
> enjoy!!!

It was fourteen years ago that Fletcher Terns had met Grant Klein. Fletcher’s father was the head scientist and mechanic at ARC headquarters, while Grant’s father was the industrious Mr. Klein, the owner of the grand corporation itself. There had been an agreement made between the two that, should their boys take their places upon their death or retirement, that they should already know how to work together. So, with that thought in mind, the hard-working Mr. Terns brought his two year-old son to work, placing him under the care of the friendly woman in charge of the daycare center that graciously provided a safe place for the employee’s children to be while they worked the day away. Grant was already there, constructing a grand new city that he could rule over, the boy precariously placing another block atop the stack he had already built. He didn’t notice the woman that brought Fletcher in, he was too involved in his work, and only knew she was there when she spoke.

“Grant, darling, look! You have a friend today! His name is Fletcher and he’s two years old,” the lady said with a smile. Fletcher peeked over from behind her legs, too scared of the older boy to go out and say hello on his own. He hid back behind her legs when he met Grant’s eyes, the other boy clutching a block in his hands.

“I don’t play with babies.” Grant muttered, narrowing his eyes at the woman. “I’m five years old. I’m twice his age. He’s dumb. I wanna play by myself.”

“Now, honey, you know what your daddy said. He wants you to be friends with this boy. Please spend some time with him; I’m sure you’ll become great friends. Come on out, Fletcher, no need to be shy…” She gently pulled Fletcher out in front of her, ushering him forwards next to Grant before leaving them to play. Fletcher stared at the brown-haired boy for a few moments, the smaller boy’s thumb stuck in his mouth. He pointed at the tower with his free hand, taking a step towards it.

“NO!” Grant shouted as he lunged forwards, pushing him away from his work, knocking the black haired child to the ground. “This is MY tower! Not YOURS! Go away!”

Fletcher shakily pushed himself to his feet, sticking his thumb back between his lips. He watched Grant build for a bit, his head cocked slightly to the side, before a great idea came to him. He made his way to the building blocks and started building his own little tower, building one to about his waist before turning to Grant and tugging on the bigger boy’s shirt. Upon getting Grant’s attention, he smiled up at the boy and pointed to his own creation proudly, hoping to elicit some sort of friendly response from him. Grant huffed and pushed Fletcher down once more, stomping to his small tower and kicking it over, stomping on the individual pieces. “These toys are all MINE! They’re not for babies like you! Go play with a choking hazard, stupid!”

The younger male once again picked himself up, looking up at Grant expectantly.

“Why are you staring at me? Go fall down some stairs.” The older boy harrumphed and resumed building, the two year-old sitting down by his feet and watching the other build closely, occasionally going so far as to hand the unenthusiastic Grant more blocks to build with. “Stop touching my blocks! I told you I don’t need your help! Now scram! I hate you and I don’t wanna see you around me anymore!”

Fletcher frowned, crawling away to the toy box in an effort to find something else to keep his mind on, settling for a large toy dinosaur. Holding the toy in his hands for a moment, as if weighing it carefully, he nodded and stood up, staring at Grant, whose back was turned to the younger male. Without another thought, bringing his arm back and throwing the toy dinosaur at Grant as hard as he could, hitting him squarely in the head and causing him to jolt forward, entirely and effectively destroying his tower. Fletcher giggled and walked over to the wreckage, kicking over what was left of the standing blocks and scattering them farther. Grant stared at him, tears welling up in his eyes. Suddenly, he picked up a block and slammed it into Fletcher’s head, knocking him to the floor. The young boy yelped and looked up at Grant while the brown haired male put one knee on either side of his chest, bringing the block down on Fletcher again and again while the younger boy struggled and attempted to cover his face with his arms. Grant continued to batter Fletcher, the black haired boy sobbing as the block collided against his nose, resulting in a formidable cracking sound. 

“GRANT! WHAT IN GOD’S NAME ARE YOU DOING?!” 

The shriek of the day care manager snapped Grant back into place and he tensed, dropping the blood stained block to the side. The manager pushed Grant off of the crying Fletcher and sat the boy up, trying to console him through calm words and reassuring promises. Eyeing the older boy fearfully, she picked Fletcher up and left the room, heading to the head desk to call for help. Grant huffed and went back to building a new, better tower. He ignored the crying of the boy he had so easily beaten and the eventual sounds of the paramedics arriving to take him away. After a short amount of time, his father stomped in, slamming the door behind him.

“Grant, why did you beat that poor boy?! You broke his nose!” His father yelled, tearing the blocks from his son’s hands. “Why on Earth would you do something like that?!”

“He broke my tower,” Grant calmly responded, kicking at one of the blocks on the floor. “And he threw a toy at me.”

“That doesn’t mean you bludgeon him with a building block, Grant!”

“Hmph.”

“GRANT!”

“What?”

“This is a very serious issue! That is the boy you were supposed to run the company with in the future!”

“Well, maybe next time I see him he won’t break my things.”


End file.
